


Safe With Me

by 3amcowboy



Series: Yes, Snake and Otacon Are in Love [1]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Hugs, I'm really not sure what to tag here, M/M, Otasune, Philanthropy, The Tanker Incident, hand-holding, mgs2, near-drowning, references to MGS1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 13:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amcowboy/pseuds/3amcowboy
Summary: The water is cold. That's the first thing he realizes. There are so many other things he knows he should be doing, should be thinking, but he just knows one thing: it is so fucking cold.It burns, but not in the way cigarettes warm his throat; it's latex-covered hands and needles and poison gas burning him from the inside out. It's Alaska without a parka, trapped beneath the ice, too far under his dogs to find him. It's Ocelot's eyes on him on Shadow Moses, disappointment mixed with venom as he gave in. It's a cold fire and he's lost feeling in his legs.(Just your average Tanker Incident fic. I couldn't help myself.)
Relationships: Otacon/Solid Snake
Series: Yes, Snake and Otacon Are in Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535531
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	Safe With Me

The water is cold. That's the first thing he realizes. There are so many other things he _knows _he should be doing, should be thinking, but he just knows one thing: it is _so _fucking cold.

It burns, but not in the way cigarettes warm his throat; it's latex-covered hands and needles and poison gas burning him from the inside out. It's Alaska without a parka, trapped beneath the ice, too far under for his dogs to find him. It's Ocelot's eyes on him on Shadow Moses, disappointment mixed with venom as he gave in. It's a cold fire and he's lost feeling in his legs. 

_Sinking fucking stone_, he remembers and wants to scream. It's too cold. Too dark. Where did he fall? 

Whoever he saw couldn't have been real. None of this could be. _Right?_

His codec _click, click, clicks_ and whirs off, waterlogged. The sound is so muffled, Snake hopes he's imagining it.

This was what they wanted. Philanthropy torn apart. Both of them dead.

_Otacon is out here_, he remembers as he lets more oxygen leave his chest. Hal has no one. He could try to swim for the surface but his arms feel like lead and he isn't sure his legs exist anymore. There's no way he'd have enough air anyway. 

_I'm sorry_, he wants to say.

He'll just keep sinking.

How much did they hate him now? They made him and he fought back. And now he'll die alone in the cold. If Snake could remember to shiver, he would. He wants to laugh. 

There's a buzz in his head and he blinks. The surface is rising further and further above him but bright lights are shining down. Maybe they weren't finished with him. They'd take him back and restart it all.

Over and over again: each time a new layer of hell that not even the Devil wants a part of. He'd rather die here in nowhere than forget.

Forget _him._

The voice had said he was drowning in time. He doesn't want to be lost to them forever.

It feels like the blink of an eye but it must be longer when the warm hands reach for him. He's hardly lucid but he pushes back on empty lungs, fighting however he can before he blacks out. He hears a familiar grunt of surprise and squints his eyes open.

_It's not them,_ he realizes and lets his mind go.

The freezing water breaks as Hal pulls Snake onto the motorboat deck. He's shaking, wheezing, and blindly pushing mousy wet hair from his eyes as he feels around for his glasses near the side. His hands tremble as he drags Snake, _Dave_, across the deck. They _need_ to go, the search lights are already out and the tanker debris is all around. But he isn't breathing. 

Otacon gets to work, unbuckling straps and gear as quickly as he can.

When Hal presses down on Dave's chest the first time, he panics. Dave always bounces back. He's always taking the hard hits. So when his body stays slack and only moves with the pressure Hal is putting on it, he thinks he might vomit. 

_It's your fault,_ his mind tells him.

"I know," he utters aloud, voice cracking from exhaustion and fear. There's nobody to hear him. There's nobody to help them. 

He learned CPR as a last ditch effort to be more useful. They rarely went on missions together but he was always afraid. Pins and needles couldn't describe the anxiety.

"C'mon Snake," Hal whimpers between breaths and compressions. Even adrenaline can't shake the icy chill from his bones. Dave's lips are bluish. 

_Thwack_, and Otacon is punching his chest.

The dark isn't scary anymore for Dave. It's the strange ache that being dead leaves him with that is frightening. Time passes slowly, so he thinks.

He knows Hal's voice and knows that, if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, Hal found him.

And now Hal is there with his corpse.

It's the worst possible outcome to what should have been a regular stealth mission. There isn't a world where he wants to leave Hal. He might be dying, but he's not alone. There's a pressure in his chest that threatens to gurgle in his throat, harsh and acid and cold.

_Cold_.

The folding card table is the best desk they have at this safe house so they take advantage of the space together. Hal is holding his hand with a laptop between them, eyes skimming another file sent from Mei Ling. They touch but they don't talk about it. Dave doesn't like that. He shouldn't be the one to bring it up, though; he's bad with feelings and speaking and just, well, being human. When he looks up, there's a smile on his friend's face. Hal has become far too skilled at reading his minor expressions.

"It's okay, I know what you're thinking." Hal says, patting Dave's wrist as he reclaims his fingers for typing, "We've got time."

But now the acid is rising and Dave thinks, _No, we don't._

He's terribly cold and the table is gone. He can hear the beating of a drum in his ears and the sensation of heating up too fast, friction and something searing. There is breath in his face and the wind brushes chills down his spine as Dave lurches upwards. Water mixes with bile and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to get it all out. There are hands at his back, on his shoulders, at his waist, holding him up. 

He groans as he collapses into the arms supporting him, breaths shaky. His head is swimming, vision blurred from a cocktail of liquid and light. They're wiping at his face with broad strokes of their thumbs, tracing his cheekbones, and when he meets their eyes he can't help it. Dave smiles, regardless of how broken it may look.

Hal was crying, is crying still, and he's shaking violently.

"Fuck," he whispers, eyes wide with disbelief.

Dave knows he's due to fall over again and he wants to, oh, he wants to, but he can't stop looking at his partner's face.

"You," he chokes out the words, "found me." Hal needs to know. He needs to know he did it. He needs to—

Otacon is tripping across the deck, grabbing for supplies, and then there's a blanket around Dave's shoulders. 

"Y-you need to get warm," he stutters, pulling Dave into his arms. "I can't fucking—"

Dave thinks about the dark and the cold and then Hal. 

"We're okay," he leans into Otacon's chest and wills his own shivering to stop. "You did it, Hal. I'm okay."

It's warm.

It's warm and they don't get to win. And Hal is not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of this one if you have a second! I've never posted an Otasune fic on here but I really wanted to share one of my takes on the Tanker Incident. It makes my heart go :'c every time


End file.
